Blades of The Fallen Realm

CHPT 3

"This is the long-lost royal lineage mark!" The courtyard fell dead silent for a brief second as Lady Margaret snatched the signed contract away, completely ignoring the scholar’s pale face. Master Reed hurried into the dark shed with the Ginseng herb to save Thomas, while Clara turned on her heel and walked back into the grand manor house without looking at Leo once.

By the time the next morning arrived, the heavy rain had stopped, but the bitter cold remained in the air. Leo sat by his father’s side until the old man’s breathing finally stabilized, his temperature returning to normal. Leo sat beside his sleeping father until the cold morning sun peeked through the small wooden window.

Old Thomas’s breathing was finally quiet and steady, his pale cheeks warm with life once again. Leo smiled softly, a wave of pure relief washing over his tired body. Knowing his father was out of danger brought a rare moment of happiness to his heavy heart.

Suddenly, Leo remembered what day it was. Today was the Sterling family’s grand Sword-Testing Assembly, where the finest blades and guards were put on display for the entire realm! "Father," Leo whispered gently, leaning down to touch the old man's shoulder.

"Your fever is gone, and you are resting well now. Is it alright if I go watch the assembly in the grand square for a little while?" Old Thomas nodded weakly, a soft, encouraging smile touching his lips. "Go, my son," the old man rasped softly.

"You have suffered so much for me; go get some fresh air." Leo stepped out of the dark shed, feeling a tiny spark of joy for the first time in months. He walked straight to the public square and stood quietly near the back of the massive crowd, hoping to enjoy the martial display from afar.

As the crowd cheered, Clara stood up in her high spectator box, her cold eyes scanning the sea of people below. Suddenly, her glare froze right as she spotted Leo standing in the middle of the crowd. Clara was waiting by her grand silver carriage, looking flawless in her white silk dress.

Lord Julian Vance stood beside her, wearing dark leather armor adorned with gold trim and carrying an expensive sword at his waist. When Clara saw Leo approaching in his wet, dirty shirt, her beautiful face instantly twisted into a harsh scowl. She did not even wait for him to stand near her before barking out her commands.

"Hold my cloak, Leo," Clara said coldly, tossing the heavy fur-lined garment into his arms like he was a clothes rack. "You will walk behind my carriage to the training grounds." "It is three miles to the grand square, Clara," Leo said quietly, looking down at his worn, thin leather boots.

"Can I not ride on the back step?" "Riding on my carriage is a privilege for noble family members!" Clara snapped, her eyes narrowing with deep hatred. "You signed the servant contract, Leo, and live-in servants walk behind the horses where they belong!"

Julian let out a loud, mocking laugh, patting the silver sword at his hip. "Let the dog walk, Lady Clara! It will teach him how to be humble after his foolish behavior last night at the feast!" "Julian is right," Clara said plainly, turning her back on Leo as Julian helped her step up into the warm, luxurious carriage.

"Follow close behind us; if you drop my cloak in the mud, I will have the guards whip your back!" The carriage driver whipped the two black horses, and the heavy wheels began to roll across the cobblestones. Leo fell into line behind the wooden wheels, clutching the heavy fur cloak to his chest as he walked through the cold morning air.

People along the streets pointed at him and whispered, laughing at the famous useless son-in-law of the Sterling family walking behind his wife's carriage like a stray dog. Leo kept his head down, enduring every insult in complete silence as his fists clenched tight. When they arrived at the Grand Martial Square, hundreds of people had already gathered around the massive stone arena.

Banners from the House of Sterling and the House of Vance fluttered high in the autumn wind. In the center of the arena stood a massive iron rack filled with dozens of broadswords, spears, and iron shields. Wealthy elders, imperial inspectors, and young martial artists sat in elevated wooden bleachers surrounding the stage.

Clara stepped out of her carriage and walked up to the high spectator box, while Julian bounded onto the center stage with a broad grin. Leo was ordered to sit on the cold stone floor at the side of the stage near the weapon racks. "Servant!" Julian called out from the stage, pointing down at Leo with a cruel smirk on his face.

"Bring the polishing cloth and grease over here right now!" Leo picked up the heavy wooden box containing grease and rags, walking slowly over to where Julian stood in front of the crowd. "What do you need?" Leo asked plainly.

"Polish my sword blade until it reflects the sun!" Julian commanded loudly, drawing a bright, silver broadsword from his leather sheath. "Make it shine, worm! The imperial inspectors are watching!" Leo took the heavy broadsword by its hilt and knelt down on the hard stone floor, laying the blade across his knees.

He pulled out a rag and began wiping the fine steel with steady, practiced movements. As Leo worked on the metal, Julian leaned down, pretending to inspect his work. Without warning, Julian brought his heavy iron-soled boot down with full force, slamming his heel straight onto Leo’s left hand!

A sharp, agonizing crunch echoed as Julian crushed Leo’s fingers against the rough stone floor. "Ah!" Leo gasped out, his face turning pale as sharp, burning pain shot up his entire arm. Blood immediately welled up beneath his fingernails and spilled out onto the gray stone floor.

"Oops!" Julian laughed loudly, making sure the nearby nobles could hear his voice. "My boot slipped! A weak servant like you should really watch where he puts his fragile fingers!" Leo looked up, his dark eyes burning with pure, unbridled fury as blood dripped off his hand onto the silver blade.

"You did that on purpose, Julian!" Leo growled, his voice trembling with rage. "So what if I did?" Julian whispered evilly, leaning down until his lips were right near Leo’s ear. "You are just a useless servant now, Leo; I can crush your hand, and no one in this city will care!"

Leo raised his head toward the spectator box, looking directly at Clara. She was sitting just twenty feet away, watching the entire scene happen with her dark, unmoving eyes. "Clara!" Leo called out, his voice cracking with emotional pain as he held his bleeding hand.

"Julian just stepped on my hand on purpose! Are you going to let him do this to me?" Clara lowered her teacup slowly, her beautiful face remaining completely cold and expressionless. She did not express a single drop of pity or anger toward Julian.

"Be quiet, Leo!" Clara scolded him loudly, her sharp voice echoing across the front row of the bleachers. "Stop causing a scene and making a fool of yourself in front of our distinguished guests!" "My hand is bleeding, Clara!" Leo yelled back, tears of frustration mixing with the sweat on his pale face.

"He crushed my fingers!" "You are a man without any noble standing or martial strength!" Clara cold-heartedly declared, glaring down at him with utter disgust. "A useless servant without power has no right to speak or complain! Endure it and keep polishing it!"

Several noble elders in the bleachers began to chuckle, shaking their heads at Leo's pitiful state. "Lady Clara is right!" an elder called out. "A live-in servant should know his place! Why is he whining like a little child over a small scratch?"

"He has no dignity at all!" a noble lady added, sipping her tea. "Interrupting the assembly just because Lord Julian accidentally bumped his hand! How disgraceful!" Julian smiled proudly, stepping off Leo’s hand and kicking the rag into Leo’s face.

"You heard your mistress, worm! Keep polishing my weapon and shut your mouth!" Leo wiped the blood from his fingers onto his pants, his heart sinking into a deep, dark void. He picked up the broadsword again, his hands shaking violently as he wiped the blood off the cold steel.

After ten minutes of polishing, Julian snatched the sword back from Leo’s hands and strutted to the center of the martial arena. He held the weapon high above his head, letting the sunlight bounce off the gleaming metal. "Lords and ladies of the realm!" Julian shouted loudly, his arrogant voice carrying across the entire grand square.

"Look upon this masterwork of steel! This is the Vance Clan's ancient broadsword, forged by legendary grandmasters!" The crowd leaned forward, murmuring in admiration as they looked at the fine, glittering weapon in Julian's hands. "This blade is completely unbeatable!" Julian boasted, striking a heroic pose in front of the imperial inspectors.

"Its metal is pure, its edge is flawless, and no smith in this entire empire can find a single defect in its forged structure!" An elderly imperial master inspector, wearing golden robes and carrying an official seal, stepped forward from the high box to examine the blade from afar. "It indeed looks like a fine piece of high-grade steel, Lord Julian," the master inspector said, nodding his head in approval.

"The Vance Clan’s armory has always produced sturdy weapons for our imperial troops." Julian puffed out his chest, looking over at Clara with a triumphant smile. Clara smiled back at him, her eyes filled with admiration for his noble martial display.

Standing at the side of the stage, holding Clara's heavy cloak with his bleeding hand, Leo looked closely at the shining broadsword in Julian's grip. Leo’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as he traced the subtle, almost invisible lines running along the steel's surface. A faint, cold smirk touched the corner of Leo’s blood-stained lips.

"That sword is trash," Leo said quietly, but his clear voice cut straight through the quiet air of the arena. The entire grand square instantly went completely silent. Julian froze in his tracks, turning his head slowly toward Leo with an angry, disbelieving scowl on his face.

"What did you just say, you dirty beggar?" Clara stood up from her chair in the box, her face turning red with pure embarrassment and rage. "Leo! Shut your mouth right now! How dare you speak such nonsense!"

"I said the sword is trash," Leo repeated calmly, stepping forward onto the wooden stage with a steady, unbothered posture. "You boast about unbeatable steel, but that blade is full of fatal errors." 

"You worthless parasite!" Julian roared, pointing the sword tip directly at Leo's chest.

"What do you know about metallurgy or weapons? You are just a toilet-cleaner who lives off scraps!" "A live-in servant trying to judge high-grade imperial steel?" a noble elder laughed mockingly from the bleachers. "This is the funniest joke I have heard all year!"

"He has lost his mind from shame!" another lord yelled. "Throw him off the stage!" The old imperial master inspector raised his hand, stopping the noisy crowd from shouting.

He looked down at Leo with a curious, strict gaze. "Young man," the master inspector said sternly. "You claim this ancient Vance broadsword has flaws? Do you understand the penalty for lying to an imperial officer?"

"I am not lying," Leo replied smoothly, looking the grand inspector straight in the eye without a single trace of fear. "There are three hidden structural fractures in that metal right now." "Name them then, fool!" Julian sneered, stepping closer to Leo.

"Name them so I can prove you are a liar and cut your tongue out!" "First," Leo said, pointing his bleeding finger at the upper third of the blade, "the smith overheated the iron during the folding process, creating a tiny air pocket right beneath the ridge." Julian laughed nervously.

"Nonsense! That is just the light reflecting off the polish!" "Second," Leo continued, ignoring Julian completely, "the quenching oil was too cold, leaving a hairline fracture near the crossguard that weakens the entire core." "Shut up! Shut your mouth!" Julian shouted, his face beginning to turn pale as the imperial inspector stepped down from the box to look closer.

"And third," Leo concluded, his voice ringing out like a heavy iron bell, "the hilt pin was hammered two millimeters off-center, meaning a single heavy strike against hard armor will shatter the entire blade into pieces!" The crowd gasped loudly, looking back and forth between the quiet live-in son-in-law and the sweating, nervous Lord Julian. "Master Inspector, do not listen to this crazy beggar!" Julian pleaded, holding the sword away from the inspector.

"He is just trying to embarrass my family because he is jealous of my status!" "Silence, Lord Julian!" the master inspector commanded sharply. He pulled a massive, three-hundred-pound iron-testing block out from the weapon rack.

"If the blade is as perfect as you claim, it will slice this test block without a scratch," the inspector declared, pointing at the heavy iron mass. "Strike the block with full force, Lord Julian!" Julian swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the sword hilt.

He glared at Leo with pure hatred, raising the broadsword high above his head with a loud, desperate battle cry. "Die, you lying worm!" Julian screamed, swinging the broadsword down with all his strength against the solid iron block! A deafening, metallic explosion echoed across the entire grand square!

The broadsword did not slice the iron block. Instead, the moment the blade made contact, it shattered into a hundred jagged pieces of flying metal! The blade snapped instantly at the upper ridge, cracked across the crossguard, and the hilt pin flew out into the dirt—shattering in the exact three places Leo had predicted!

A heavy piece of flying steel grazed Julian’s cheek, leaving a thin red cut on his arrogant face as the hilt slipped out of his trembling hand. The entire arena fell into a deathly, suffocating silence. Hundreds of noble elders, martial artists, and guards stood frozen with their mouths wide open in absolute shock.

Julian fell backward onto his rear in the dirt, staring at his broken hilt with wide, horrified eyes. "My... my family's broadsword... shattered?" Clara stood frozen in her box, her hand suspended in the air as her face turned completely pale.

She looked at the piles of broken steel on the floor, and then she looked at Leo in utter disbelief. How could a useless, live-in son-in-law who had never touched a sword in his life possess master-level metallurgical knowledge that exceeded even imperial inspectors? The old imperial master inspector slowly walked over to Leo, his eyes wide with deep astonishment and profound respect.

"Who... who are you?" the master inspector whispered in awe, staring at the quiet young man standing in the middle of the stage. Leo did not answer.

He simply picked up Clara's heavy fur cloak from the floor, wiped his bleeding hand on his shirt, and stared coldly at the trembling Lord Julian on the ground, leaving everyone in the grand square questioning his true background!